Love is Red
by TheCinnamonTiger
Summary: A series of unrelated Starktasha one-shots
1. Chapter 1

Natasha was a very reserved person. She never talked about her past, her thoughts, anything. She just didn't see the point. Why talk when there was nobody to listen or care? As a result of this, and what little people did know of her past, all but her closest friends stayed away from her. They would let her know of missions of upcoming assignments, but that was it. They didn't talk much to her unless they had to. The only people that did talk to her were her fellow Avengers, Phil, and sometimes Fury.

Maybe this was why she fascinated Tony so much. She kept to herself but still was just as involved in everything as the rest. She was good at her job, and she knew it. But she didn't make a huge deal of it. It was almost like she wasn't proud of it. But also, he knew part of the reason he was interested in her was because she didn't fall head over heels to be within five feet of him. In fact, she hardly paid any attention to him at all. Occasionally they would swap sarcastic remarks, or make fun of something, or someone, together. She was one of the only people able to keep up with his sassy remarks and counter them just as well.

But it wasn't just one sided. Secretly, Natasha was interested in him too. Maybe it was because she didn't understand him and his attitude. Maybe it was the facial hair. Maybe it was because he was different than all other men she had ever seen. Or maybe it was a whole different reason. Maybe it was because she saw what no one else did. She saw the untold stories in his eyes. The feelings that were buried beneath the sarcasm and narcissism. Anger, sorrow, depression, rage, with himself? To Natasha, Tony wasn't the heartless jerk everybody thought he was. And every time someone would make a comment about his lack of caring, or his rudeness, or how he didn't deserve to be a hero, it pained Natasha just a little. Tony acted like he couldn't care less. Like the burning pain of the hateful words didn't even phase him. But she knew that deep down, those words added another scar to his ever growing wound. She knew how much it tore him apart. But every day, he would wake up, paint on the mask that had become his personality, and survive another day.

And maybe all those reasons were why this was happening. Who knew why Fury (or Nicky as Tony liked to call him) had sent them on this mission together. Maybe he saw what was happening between Tony and Natasha, even though they themselves were oblivious to it. Or maybe, he just needed them together for this mission.

"Care for a dance, Natalie?" Tony asked, holding out his hand and trying not to smirk at the familiar name.

"I would love too." She said, taking his hand in hers and stepping onto the dance floor.

Her black heels clicked on the smooth floor as they stepped to a quiet rhythm. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and a small black bow in her fiery hair. Tony was wearing a simple black tuxedo, which was enough. He had to be constantly reminded that they were trying to blend in, not be the life of the party.

Natasha remembered what Fury had told them. "It's a simple mission. You need to infiltrate the party, find the drug lord and his bill of shipment, and get it. Easy in, easy out. I would recommend, Agent Romanoff, a seducing method. Stark can sneak in, get the bill, and you both can get out before the drug lord ever knows what happened."

Although Tony made a few remarks about how he should be the one doing the seducing, it was quickly settled when Fury reminded him that the drug lord was a man, and if it had been a woman, it would definitely be the other way around. And it would be an easy mission. Probably one of the easiest missions Natasha had ever done. So why was she sent with Tony? He didn't even like to work with SHIELD. And this mission would have been just as easy, if not easier, with Clint, or even Steve. She probably could have even done it by herself. But for a reason that would forever be a mystery, she was sent with Tony.

And as they danced, both of them had a hard time concentrating on their mission. Natasha's stomach was being flooded with butterflies, which was something she wasn't used too. Her hand was in Tony's warm one, and her other hand rested gently on his bicep. Tony was nervous too, which was something that hadn't happened to him for a long time. He was used to being fully in control with a girl. But Natasha was a free spirit. She would do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

He held her cold hand firmly in his and his other hand pressed gently against her lower back, leading her through the steps of a simple waltz. Natasha peered over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact. They both knew exactly who they were looking for. SHIELD had an unbelievable amount of information on the drug lord.

"You see him?" Tony asked, also avoiding eye contact.

"Nope. How about you?" Natasha asked.

Tony shook his head. "Do we know where the bill is? We could just go grab it and be done. We could get dinner or something."

"Yes, but we know that he'll be going in there sometime. And it's in a safe, so you have to put that device of yours on it, and that'll take a little time." She said, and then met his eyes. "And dinner? Really?"

Tony chuckled. "Your airplane food sucks."

Natasha gave a small smile. "Can't argue with that I guess."

Then, Tony stiffened slightly. "I see him."

Natasha nodded slightly. "Good. Okay, turn around so I can see him."

Slowly, Tony maneuvered so that they danced in a three hundred sixty degree circle. Natasha pursed her lips. "Yeah, that's the him."

"Time to work your magic." Tony said, smirking.

She glared playfully at him. "If that's what you want to call it."

For a second, they shared a long look. She again saw all of the things he wanted to say but didn't allow himself too. All of the things he didn't allow himself to feel. And he saw the same thing in her eyes. Her past mistakes and all the secrets she kept hidden and stowed away in the darkest corners of her mind. All of the feelings she hid and protected herself from. And then it was over.

"I'm going to get a drink." Natasha said.

Tony smiled. "Alright, Natalie."

Natasha turned and walked off, her heels clicking as she made her way through the crowd. She tried to push Tony from her mind so she could focus. She swayed her hips just a bit more, stood up a little straighter, and painted a small smile onto her face. She stopped at the drink bar. "I'll have a Vodka." She said, adding her Russian accent back into her words.

She hated to use it, but sometimes the accent worked wonders. The bartender nodded and filled her glass with the requested drink. She took a small sip from it and turned around, scanning the people. She saw Tony making his way through the crowd casually, always staying within at least a hundred feet of her. After all, he was the only one able to sneak a gun in. She tried to ignore the butterflies that had suddenly surfaced in her stomach again. The fact that he was purposely protecting her made her feel... Strange.

Natasha shoved Tony from her mind and made eye contact with the drug lord. When he noticed, she quickly looked away and playfully bit her lower lip. Some sort of spell seemed to come over the drug lord and he quickly excused himself from his conversation. He walked over to Natasha, unable to keep the idiotic grin off his face. He was even more unattractive in person than in a picture. "Hello." The drug lord said. "Are you enjoying the party?"

Natasha smiled. "I am. I hear you're the one who put it on?"

"That would be correct."

"Well, I must say, it's an amazing party." She said, taking a small step towards him, still fingering her Vodka.

The drug lord flushed with pride and he stood up a little straighter. "Thank you, madam." He paused. "Are you Russian?"

She gave a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"No no, I meant nothing bad. I like it." He said. Natasha smiled.

"You do?"

"I do." He said, still smiling like a crazed hyena.

Natasha sighed and pretended to check the time. She frowned. "Oh, I really must be going."

"So soon? The party has barely started!" The drug lord said anxiously.

Natasha sighed and took a sip of her Vodka. "I suppose it is still early." She paused. "I don't think I got your name."

"My name is Anthony." He said. "But you can call me Tony."

She almost laughed out loud. She couldn't wait until Tony heard about this. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Anthony."

She said. "Please, call me Tony. And your name is?"

There was no way she could call this guy Tony. It felt weird enough to call him Anthony."Natalie." She said, smiling.

"A beautiful name to match a beautiful girl." He said, giving a toothy grin.

Natasha laughed and edged closer to him. "I'm glad you think I'm beautiful." She said softly.

"You're the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on."

Natasha reached out and placed a hand on his chest. She sincerely hoped Tony was almost done. "You're very good at giving compliments." She said quietly.

"And you're very good at receiving them." He whispered.

Natasha had to hold her breath so as not smell the awful stench of his cigarette breath. She traced a finger up his chest and onto his face, following the (fairly large) curves up his cheek and down his chin. Suddenly, Tony appeared behind her. "Natalie, it's time to go." He snapped.

Natasha turned around, her eyes thanking him for finally showing up. "So soon?" She asked.

"You've already overstayed your welcome here." Tony said.

Natasha was hoping nobody had recognized him when they had split up. So far, they were in luck. "Oh Robert, are you sure we have to leave right now?" She whined.

"Natalie, now." He growled.

Natasha turned back to the drug lord. "I'll see you, Anthony."

The drug lord looked like he was going to cry as she walked away. When they left the party and were in the car, out of earshot, Natasha slumped in her seat. "Took you long enough." She said, erasing the Russian accent. "That was awful."

Tony didn't say anything. "By the way," Natasha said. "You played your part really well. Almost too well." She teased.

Tony looked at her. "It just... Looked so easy for you."

"What?"

"So easy for you to compliment him and act all flirty and... You never do that." He said.

"Wait, are you, jealous?" She asked, dumbfounded.

He started fiddling nervously with the paper he had gotten and didn't meet her eyes. Natasha sat stunned. For a long moment, they didn't say anything. Then, "Dinner sounds good." Natasha said.

Tony folded up the paper and put it back into his pocket. "So you really did want to go." He said, smirking at her.

Natasha chuckled. They drove in silence for a while and Tony kept casting glances at her. He didn't do well in silence. Natasha kept her eyes forward. "By the way, I hated every second of the time I spent with that guy."

Tony laughed. "I don't care, Nat." It was a lie.

She looked at him. "You don't? Oh. I thought... Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing."


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha could feel herself slipping away. She could feel her the wound in her side grow warm and blood start to soak the makeshift bandage around herself. She looked up at the sky from her spot on the ground. It was raining lightly and the ground was muddy. The cold wind blew across her face, brushing small strands of her fiery hair out of her face. She was losing too much blood. She wasn't going to make it. She could hear gun fire somewhere near here and she silently prayed that Phil would see her laying helplessly on the ground. But she knew that even if he did see her, there was no way he could get to her in time.

She scrunched into a ball, the pain coming in waves. She groaned and gripped the bandage tighter to her body, trying to stop the blood flow, but there was just too much of it. Natasha was caked in blood and mud and she was breathing heavily. The gun fire had gotten closer, but she couldn't tell if if was friendly or not. And if one of the enemy found her laying here alone, completely unable to fend for herself, they would finish her off in an instant.

And then came the anger, with herself. She was an assassin. A skilled one at that. There was no way she should have been caught up in this mess in the first place. The entire mission hadn't been planned well and Natasha had been too gun-ho about it. She had just jumped in head first without checking both ways. That wasn't like her.

But she had just wanted to get home as fast as possible. She desperately wanted to be back to Tony. It had only been a week and a half, but she already missed him. More than she had ever missed anybody.

As much as she appeared professional and focused on the mission, Tony had always been somewhere in the back of her mind. He never really left her thoughts. And now, here she was, laying on the ground, her last thought before she went out would be of Tony. Tony.

Natasha could see him clear as day. His playful smirk, his warm brown eyes, his soft hair, everything. The sound of his laugh filled her ears. Suddenly, something inside of Natasha sparked. Adrenaline pumped into her veins and hot tears filled her eyes. She forced herself up, gritting her teeth. She stood up shakily, clutching her side. Her vision contracted in pain. She wanted to lay back down and give up. But she wouldn't. That would be selfish. But she wasn't doing it for SHIELD. She wasn't doing it for Fury. She wasn't doing it for Phil or even Clint. She was doing it for Tony. She had to see him again.

She started hobbling blindly forwards, towards the sound of gun fire. Blood dripped down her side, staining her clothes red. The gun fire came closer and closer, until finally, Natasha could make out a blurry image of Phil Coulson. He was crouched behind one of SHIELD's jeeps when he saw her. "Natasha!" He cried, momentarily forgetting to be professional and using her first name.

He ran out from behind the jeep towards her. He wrapped his arm around her and helped her walk back to the jeep. People asked her where she had gone and what had happened, but Natasha didn't answer. She couldn't. She honestly didn't remember. And even if she did, she wouldn't be able to think straight enough to form a sentence. The lack of blood was making her head spin.

She remembered being ushered into a small medical jeep. She barely remembered people over her, fixing up her wound. A smile appeared on her lips as she realized that she was going to make it. Live to see another day. And the last thing she remembered before she lost consciousness was Tony's warm smile. The smile that had just saved her life.


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha had just gotten home from a mission. It had lasted a week, and even though it had been successful, she felt like she had been sent on a wild goose chase. So when she got to Stark Tower, she was tired. She just wanted to relax and go to bed. Maybe watch some Doctor Who or Big Bang Theory with Tony.

She walked inside and to her surprise, Jarvis didn't greet her. The elevator wasn't working either, so she had to take the stairs. She frowned, wondering what Tony could possibly be doing that would make him turn Jarvis off. She checked in his lab, but Tony wasn't there. Shrugging it off, she went up to the living area. The television was dark and the lights were off. The only light was from the sunlight shining in the window. "Tony?" She called hesitantly.

"Agent Romanoff," A deep voice answered her.

The redhead looked up as Director Fury walked out of the shadows, his hands crossed behind his back. "You're finally back from your mission."

Normally, Natasha would have shown more respect. She would have just nodded and kept silent. But not this time. "What the heck are you doing in my house?" She snapped.

A small, twisted smile crept onto Fury's face. "We had to get you out of the way. One Avenger we can handle. Two? Not so much."

She faltered. "W-what?"

"They're dead, Romanoff. Every single one of them."

"What? Who? I don't understand." She said worriedly.

Fury rolled his eyes. "I was expecting more of a reaction. Tony's dead, Natasha."

At first, she didn't believe it. She wanted to shoot him for messing with her like that, but she didn't believe him. And then he pointed to the couch. "See for yourself."

With shaking hands, she took a few steps forward, peering over the edge of the couch. And there, laying motionless on the cushions was Tony. His eyes were closed and his skin was pale. Blood was dripping out of the corner of his mouth and out of his ear. His hair was ruffled and messy like he had just been sleeping. The sunlight lit up his features. The smile lines around his eyes, his partly open lips, the vein showing through the skin around his neck, everything.

Suddenly, a huge mixture of emotions whirled through Natasha. She felt tears well up in her eyes and she pursed her lips. "Killed him in his sleep." Fury said. "Clint was shot with one of his own arrows. Steve had a surgery he didn't need and never got up again. Bruce was locked in a strong cage underwater in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

"Stop." Natasha said, her voice cracking slightly.

"Thor was called down to Earth to protect Jane. Turns out Asgardians aren't immortal."

"I said stop." She said, trying desperately to hold back tears.

"Tony was pretty easy. Jarvis let me in because I'm part of SHIELD. And then, he was sleeping, so I just took his arc reactor." He paused, holding up a glowing circle of light. "He doesn't put up much of a fight without it."

Natasha stiffened, keeping her back tuned to Fury. "I hate you."

He ignored her. "We needed you out of the way because getting rid of Black Widow and Iron Man at the same time?" He laughed. "That would have been a fools errand." He paused. "But now that you're here, the last part of this should be pretty easy. Do you wanna know how I kill Natasha Romanoff?"

Suddenly, rage overtook the redhead's sadness. She looked at Tony. She ran her eyes across his face. His face that used to hold so much life. It was so empty now, like nobody had lived there for a long time. And suddenly, in a rush of anger and hatred, Natasha pulled out her gun, spun around, and shot Fury in the chest.

For a moment, the tower was completely silent. Tears streamed freely down Natasha's face and she stared down at Fury. He looked down at his chest, and then looked back up. He collapsed to his knees, blood soaking his shirt. "Well played, Agent Romanoff. Well played."

And then he lost consciousness, falling down to the ground and sucking in his last breath.

Moments later, Natasha fell to her own knees, tears rolling down her cheeks, sobbing and gasping for breath. She dropped her gun and collapsed to all fours. And then she screamed. She screamed because she had just killed someone she used to trust. Screamed because Tony was gone. Lost forever from her. Ripped out of her life in a matter of moments. Screamed because in less than thirty seconds, her entire life had just fallen apart before her eyes. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Suddenly, Natasha jerked awake. She sat bolt upright, drenched in a cold sweat. She was in a bed. She looked around. She was in Stark Tower. "Jarvis?" She cried, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Good morning, Miss Romanoff." Jarvis's voice answered her. "In case you're wondering, the alarm didn't go off. It's only two AM."

"Jarvis," she said, partially relieved to hear him working again. "Where's Tony?"

"Mr. Stark is asleep in his lab."

Natasha breathed out a sigh of relief and fell back onto her bed. "Thanks, Jarvis." She mumbled. "

My pleasure, Miss Romanoff."


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on, Tash, stay with me." Tony said, cradling Natasha's head in his lap.

Her eyes fluttered open and she peered up at him. "Stark?" She asked, confused.

Tony closed his eyes, flooded with relief. He breathed out deeply and reopened his eyes again. "Tash, listen to me." He clutched her limp hand in his. "Help is on the way, so just hang on."

"W-what happened?" She asked.

Tony bit his lip. He didn't see exactly what happened, but he knew that if she didn't get help soon, Natasha would bleed out completely. He had tried to stop the blood flow with whatever he had: A jacket, some rope, part of his shirt, anything. But the wound was too deep. And the rain wasn't helping either. It poured down in sheets, making the bandages soaking wet and not able to hold as much blood. Tony now had mud and blood all over his face, hands, and pretty much his entire body. And the weird part was, most of it wasn't his.

"I don't know." He said.

Natasha tried to lift her head to look, but Tony stopped her. "Don't move. Those bandages are really loose."

Tony could tell she didn't want to stay there. She wanted to get up and fix herself. But she couldn't always be her own hero. Sometimes, someone else would have to do that for her.

"You're bleeding." Natasha said flatly.

"Probably."

She reached up and tried to wipe the blood off his face, but there was just too much. Tony shouldn't have let her do that. It had taken too much effort. Natasha let out a slow breath and closed her eyes. "No! Natasha, stay awake!" He snapped, holding her face in his free hand.

Natasha blinked back open her eyes. "Tony," she began.

Tony was taken aback. Since when did she call him by his first name? She very rarely did that. "What is it?" He asked softly.

She took a deep breath. "Tony, I'm not going to last much longer."

His eyes widened. "No, listen, help is coming! It's almost here!"

She glared at him until he quieted down. "No, I need you to listen to me." She said.

"Just stay awake, Tash."

"Tony, I need to tell you something and I," her breathing became raspy and every movement was painful. "I don't have a lot of time."

Tony didn't listen. "Keep your eyes open. I need you to stay awake."

"No! Tony, you don't understand!" She sucked in a breath. It took all of her strength to say each word. "Sometimes you can't get around something. Sometimes you can't win, Tony. This is one of those times. E-even if help arrived now,"

"Don't talk like that, Natasha. I know you can do this; you've survived worse." Tony said firmly.

Natasha wanted to say something back to him. She wanted to argue with him, to tell him how he was wrong, and so many other things. She wanted him to understand that she felt the same way about him as he did about her. But it was too late now. She had used every last second she had left avoiding her feelings and building up walls. And now she regretted it all. She tried. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her voice had left her.

Tony seemed to notice. He looked down at her, cradling her head in his arms. And for the first time, Natasha saw him with a look that wasn't sarcastic, wasn't playboy, wasn't genius, wasn't superhero, wasn't anything she was used to. It was that of a young boy, scared to death that he was going to lose something precious. His lips were parted slightly, his eyes were wide with fear, his hands shook, and sweat dropped off his forehead.

Natasha stared up at him, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. And then, she felt her heart skip a beat. She sucked in a quick gasp and she gripped Tony's hand. "Tony," she managed.

He didn't know what to do. He felt so lost and unsure of himself. He didn't know if he was thinking straight or not, but he did the first thing that came to his mind: He kissed her. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. For a moment, Natasha was confused. Her eyes widened, and then, she let him and started kissing him back.

Tony had kissed her one other time; or at least, tried to. She had been turning to leave and he barely caught the end of her lips. She had pulled away immediately and glared at him, storming out the door. But now, it was different. She kissed him back like she had been kissing him all her life. Natasha felt her heart skip another beat, and then another, and then die out completely. Pain shot through her chest, but she didn't take her lips off of Tony's. She drew in her last breath through her nose and held it for as long as possible. Tony gently pulled away to look at her. She managed a smile and stared at his chocolatey eyes. And then, slowly, she let out her final breath. She closed her eyes as the air escaped her lungs. Tony felt her body go limp in his arms.

For a moment, the world was silent. The sun seemed to stop shining. Everything earned a new shade of gray. And for a moment, Tony was completely dumbstruck. His mind couldn't quite grasp what had just happened. That a life had just been lost in his arms.

And then the pain started. Anger, sorrow, hatred, and fear all boiled up inside him at once. He screamed into the rain. He clutched her lifeless body closer to himself. He shook his head violently. He cursed loudly, trying to figure out why she didn't even try to hold out longer. And then, he collapsed into tears.

Tony didn't cry. It wasn't something he did. Even from a very young age, he never cried. He got angry, he got scared, he got sad, but he never cried. Tears just didn't come naturally to him. But now they rolled down his cheeks like they had never stopped. He sobbed violently, his shoulders shaking. His breathing was uneven and ragged, and his tears slipped off of his face and down onto Natasha's. He held her closer to himself. He buried his face into her hair and tried to breathe in her sweet scent past all the blood and sweat. But it was gone. Everything was gone. Tony heard a helicopter behind him, but he didn't bother to look. He heard swift footsteps and then he heard Phil Coulson's voice behind him. "Oh no."


	5. Chapter 5

"Agent Romanoff." Fury said, standing up from behind his desk. "I have a mission for you. I know this kind of work isn't your favorite, but I need it done and you're my first choice."

"What kind of work is it?" Natasha asked, suddenly growing worried.

"An assassination." He said, casting a glance at her. "It'll be easy. We have the target here in SHIELD, holed up in one of the interrogation chambers."

The redhead was confused. "Why do you need an assassin when the target is here?"

"Don't question if, Agent Romanoff. Go to interrogation room three and your target will be waiting for you. I expect this done well, Romanoff." Fury directed Natasha out of his office without another word.

Still a little confused, she headed for the interrogation chamber. When she got to the room, she nodded at the agent standing guard and opened the door. It was dark inside, as was the cliche interrogation room. She peered into the darkness and saw a soft blue light emanating from the far corner. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a shape.

Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. The blue light was an arc reactor. Tony stood up, looking at her. "Natasha?" He asked.

But Natasha couldn't speak. He was her target. She was supposed to kill Tony. "Tash, what's going on?" Tony asked, confused.

He walked over to her, looking at her with his soft brown eyes. She stared back up at him, her hands shaking. She couldn't move. Just then, someone walked into the room, slamming the door behind them. It was Agent Hill. "Fury sent me to make sure you did your job." She said dryly. "But it looks like you're not."

Hill produced a gun and suddenly shot Tony in the chest. "No!" Natasha screamed.

Tony's eyes widened and he looked down at the bloody hole above his arc reactor. He sank to his knees, his mouth hanging part way open. He looked back up at Natasha and tried to say something, but no words came out. Natasha stared helplessly down at Tony. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't get any of her limbs to move.

Suddenly, Natasha woke up. She rolled off the couch she had been laying on and landed on the floor hard. She let out a small moan. "Oh, you're awake! Finally. You were out for hours." A familiar voice said.

Natasha jumped to her feet and looked around. Standing just a few feet away from her was Tony. He didn't have a bleeding hole in his chest and he wasn't locked up in some interrogation chamber. Instead, he was holding a cup of coffee and a screwdriver was in his back pocket. His shirt was splotched with motor oil and grease. "I was about to wake you up so you'd stop hogging the couch." he teased.

Natasha walked over to him without a word and wrapped her arms around his neck. Normally she wasn't the kind for hugging. But after that nightmare... She pressed her head against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was still strong, and she let out a small sigh of relief.

"Uh, Tash, are you okay?" Tony asked, frowning a little and holding the coffee over her so he wouldn't spill it.

She pulled away. "Sorry. And yeah, I'm okay now."

Tony frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Natasha took his coffee cup from him and took a long drink, handing it back to him. "I'm fine." She said, giving a small smile.

Tony made a face at the now half-full cup he was holding. "Alright. Anyways, I hope you like pizza, because that's for dinner."

"We had pizza last night!" Natasha cried.

"Well you were asleep, so I had to decide all by my lonesome." Tony said, nudging her side playfully.

Natasha laughed. She had never been more happy to be awake.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been dark. He had never seen this coming.

It was still dark. And he was cold. Maybe that was because he was losing blood so fast. His breathing was thick and blood poured out of him, the liquid getting colder as it mixed with the air. He choked and spat out a disgusting, reddish blob.

Tasted like coconut.

The light in his chest flickered anxiously and he leaned his head back against the cold floor. He closed his eyes for a moment.

That was a mistake.

His mind swam and he felt as his thoughts slipped between cracks in his fingers as he tried to grasp onto them. He forced his eyes back open.

His killer was gone. He had escaped. Tall, dark, and psychotic, he had been the cliche killer. And he had killed him with a knife. Forced into the thick skin covering vital organs in his chest, causing his own blood to splatter his killer's shirt and the paint the walls. And now it smelled awful in the room.

This wasn't how he was supposed to go. Never. He was supposed to die in some blaze of glory, falling from the sky in a burning metal suit.

Or die of old age. Lying in a bed. Eyes closed. Holding her hand. That would have been nice, he realized.

And suddenly he realized something.

He hadn't talked to her in so long. He had hardly said anything to her recently. She was on some mission in... Where was it? Oh, god, he didn't even know that.

With a groan of pain, he forced his hand into his pocket, moving so that the the gaping hole in his chest widened, and for a moment, he thought he was going to lose his little grasp on life right then.

But after a moment, his fingers closed around the slim metal of his cell phone. He took it out of his pocket, just barely suppressing a scream of agony.

He calmed himself, forcing his breathing to be normal. He waited for the hotness in his eyes to die down.

"Jarvis," he breathed. "Natasha. Get me... dial Nat."

"_Yes sir. Shall I call an ambulance as well?_" the smooth, robotic voice asked.

"I th-think it's a little late for that, now, Jarvis. J-just call Tash." he managed

"_Dialing Miss Romanoff, sir._"

He waited. It rang for a long time. Panic leapt into his chest, and his heart beat painfully fast. He'd leave a message. But it wouldn't be the same.

An instant before it went to voice message, she picked up.

"Stark!" she hissed. "What are you calling me for? I'm on a mission!"

"Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help it." he forced his tone to be light, and erased the rough rasp from his voice.

"What are you even doing? I could be sneaking through a compound right now, and your call would have given me away." she snapped.

"Yeah, but I doubt you'd leave your cell on, or even take it with you if you were doing that." he replied, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

She sighed. "Touche. No, we're waiting for our group to get back. They found an 0-8-4. What are you doing?"

"Oh," he paused, trying to ignore the unnatural warmth that was suddenly spreading across his chest. "You know, a bit of this. Bit of that."

"Tinkering again?" he could almost see the smirk on her lips.

"I suppose you could call it that. Anyways, I haven't seen you in forever, Nat." he managed.

"That's because I'm on a mission, idiot."

"No, I mean before that, too. You're always at SHIELD. With all those muscly agents."

She laughed. "What are you saying, Stark?"

"You don't have to call me Stark, you know."

"What would you rather I call you? Idiot?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Alright, then. Idiot it is." she said.

He grinned, closing his eyes again for just a moment. God, he loved her voice.

"So, we should see each other again soon. Is that what you're saying?" she asked. "We could have dinner when I get back. I'm supposed to be back in California on Tuesday, if you're interested."

"Oh, I... I think I'm all booked up for the week, but... I do miss you."

She paused. "I miss you too." her voice was slightly softer.

"I love you, baby. You know that, right?"

" 'Course I do." she said. "I love you too, idiot."

He laughed, barely suppressing a cough.

He didn't know what else to say. He desperately racked his mind for something - anything else he could talk to her about, but-

"I've got to go." she said suddenly. "The group's back, and they look a little shaken. I'll see you soon, 'kay? Don't blow yourself up. Don't destroy the house too much."

"Love you," he mumbled.

"Love you too, Tony."

The phone clicked as she hung up.

He stayed there for a moment, listening to the sudden hard silence. It enveloped him and he stared at the ceiling, phone still held up to his ear. His breathing was raspy again.

"Jarvis..." he breathed.

"_Sir?_"

"I-it was a pleasure working with you."

"_The pleasure is all mine, sir._" the ai replied.

"I'm sure..." an odd laugh left his lips. "L-listen... Remember to give Nat her suit, since I w-won't be there for her birthday. B-but take the ring out of it, okay? D-don't want this any worse than it already is. A-and-"

"_You can count on me, sir._"

He closed his eyes. Lips parted slightly.

He meant to say thank you. He really did. But... His voice had left him. And the ai didn't care. He was an artificial intelligence, after all. Artificial. That meant not-real. Even if he had been the mechanic's closest friend at times. Programmed to be snarky, just like his creator.

And then it happened so fast, he didn't even realize what was happening.

His eyes snapped open as his heart skipped a beat. The only light in the room was the dull, bluish glow coming from what was left of his shredded chest. And it was flickering and fading.

He forced air into his lungs, breathing as deeply as he could, feeling his lungs fill up with a liquid.

He coughed.

He choked.

His heart skipped another beat, faltered, and died entirely.

A final breath traced up his throat, left his lips, and mixed with the chilled air around him.

The light in his chest flickered again, and then went out, like a candle being snuffed.


End file.
